


Thought Process

by PluviophileCaterpillar



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Other, Reflection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29980560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PluviophileCaterpillar/pseuds/PluviophileCaterpillar
Summary: What goes through my mind is out there for the public eye. There are many ways to interpret someone's thoughts, but can you fully understand it?





	1. Nobody To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Throughout the series, there will be negative thoughts. I will not list the trigger warnings since it is your choice whether you proceed or not. It is your choice not mine.

Nobody can see me.

Nobody can hear me.

They all just ignore me.

Is nobody enough for me?

Nobody.

I am nobody.

They are somebody.

I am not a body.

Somebody, nobody, anybody.

I am not someone.

I am not no one.

I am not anyone.

I am everyone.

Nobody exists but me.

I am me.

No one is here.

I am here.

Anybody can hear me.

I cannot hear me.

Somebody can see me.

I cannot see me.

What is there to be?


	2. Cutting the River's Flowers

Taking a pair of scissors, I walked over to the river.

The meadows were glistening with viridescent plants.

Following along the bank, there were splendid flowers.

Vibrant colors of the north and south.

How could something be so pretty?

I want it.

I want it for myself.

The river wouldn't mind if one flower went missing.

Right?

Gripping the scissors, I snipped off a bud of mystical blue.

It wilted in my hands melting into a crimson red.

How come?

Maybe it was because I made a mistake, a wrong flower to choose.

I cut off more and more with the same results.

The melting flowers dripped into the lake.

The peaceful, crystal river turned into a red, violent rage.

It tells me to cut more and more.

The river bank begins to overflow.

It swallowed me whole ushering me to open the scarlet door.

I snapped back into reality and looked around.

My wrists, my scissors, my blood, new bliss.

Was it all worth it in the end?


	3. Laughing

I should not laugh.

Do not laugh.

That isn't the proper reaction.

Cry about it.

Be angry about it.

Do anything but laugh.

Someone dying isn't a laughing matter.

I don't know how to cry.

I don't know how to say goodbye.

I don't know if I should stay and lie.

I laugh.

Laughing is all I do.

I don't know how to feel bad.

Laughing is all I do.

Laugh.

I can't express my feelings properly.

Laughing is all I can do.

Laugh at this.

Laugh at that.

It's all in my head.

Laugh, laugh, laugh.

I know how to laugh.

I hurt others and laugh.

I hurt my loved ones and laugh.

I hurt myself and laugh.

I hang myself and.

Not laugh.

I know how to cry.

I know how to say goodbye.

I can do anything.

But laugh


	4. Hope for the Greater Good

How come everyone still hope?

Everyone just gets hurt but gets back up only to get hurt even more.

There is no point in getting up.

Just sleep.

No one will hear your crying.

Hoping for someone to be there isn't realistic.

They all leave in the end abandoning you.

Let it be death that takes them or greed.

Go home alone.

Why are you still clinging onto hope?

No one can keep their treasures forever.

There isn't a reason.

Hope is shallow.

It just blinds you from reality.


	5. Pluviophile

Gosh, I could just melt into the rain.

The aesthetics of water formed into droplets.

Landing on leaves and misting into the earth.

Consumed by the ground, the soil.

Water and its memories.

At least it never forgets me.

It wipes my tears away collecting my misery along with it.

The comforting trickles and whispers make me feel wanted.

Somewhere deep inside, it promises me without fail.

It will come back not missing a single morning dew.

How could I ever life without rain?

Why would I ever live without the rain?

I run after the sun who was taking them home.

I watched the pond shrink to a puddle or two.

Why would the rain ever let go?

The rain never lies this I know.

It will come back.

But it never until the day I died.


	6. Wings

With wings, I could go anywhere.

Farther than any place I've known.

Somewhere cold and silent.

Suits me best when I am dying.

No one knowing and no one caring.

It's the perfect place, a place that always snows.

It's just a wish.

Only a wish I could make.

I am happy to be at home.

Not on Earth but somewhere that goes beyond.

With wings, I could go anywhere.

With legs, what is there to even spare?

Above the mountain and under the valleys

In this world, there is nothing to care.


End file.
